


Pulling Pigtails

by ultimateparadox



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crushes, F/M, Feelings Realization, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Self-Esteem Issues, Vulnerability, supportive friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23567707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultimateparadox/pseuds/ultimateparadox
Summary: Having a snack with Annette hadn't been Felix's first or even second plan for his rest day, but he didn't regret it.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 2
Kudos: 76





	Pulling Pigtails

“You’re a fucking horse girl,” Felix bit out, cradling three brushes in his arms while watching Sylvain use a fourth on his moody horse. “You spoiled her and that’s why she’s a brat.”

Sylvain hummed. It wasn’t a musical or thoughtful sound. It was Sylvain’s Hum of Impending Danger. The creeping instinct to defend himself rose on Felix like a shroud. “Is that what I did to you? I remember little baby Felix and—”

The brushes clattered to the floor of the stable. “We’re done here.”

“Wait!” Sylvain stared mournfully at the spilled brushes. The next time he opened his mouth, maybe he’d remember that actions had consequences. “Weren’t we going to go riding?”

It had been the initial plan. Felix’s mare shared a wall with Sylvain’s, and she was a powerful creature that he rode less as a warhorse and more as a transporter from the monastery to their class assignments and back. Lucy probably deserved the exercise. “I’ve changed my mind. Go with Ingrid and be horse girls together.” Resigned to taking her out on the horse trails later, Felix dropped an affectionate pat on Lucy’s nose before leaving the stables.

He wasn’t followed to the training grounds, thankfully. Less thankfully, when Felix arrived there were boundaries set up to push a large gathering of students to the side as the instructors conducted a black magic tournament. He hadn’t realized they were hosting one. Pushing to the front, Felix caught the tail end of the current match up, Dorothea from the Black Eagles collapsing, winded, to the hard-packed ground. “I need a white flag,” she complained, waving her arm in the air. His eyebrows rose as her opponent, Annette, stepped forward to graciously pull her back to rights. 

When Dorothea was shuffled off to the loser’s bracket, Lysithea from the Golden Deer stepped forward. Previous demonstrations of her magical prowess had asserted the girl’s strength and Felix inwardly winced. Annette and Lysithea were evenly matched when it came to work ethic and Annette could command the winds like the myths of Saint Macuil, but everyone knew Lysithea was a destructive force packed into a tiny frame, primed to explode. He watched the panic chase the cheer from Annette’s face and knew she was going to get caught up in her own head.

Raising his voice above the din of spectators, Felix called out, “Annette!” She startled, scanning wide eyes through the throng until she found him. He watched her lips form his name, the noise sucked away in the crowd. “Blow her away!” Annette’s stunned expression held for another moment before it melted into determination. She firmly nodded at him before turning to her opponent and waiting for the round to start.

A high-pitched hand bell rang and the girls wasted no time. The heat from Lysithea’s fire spell kissed even the audience standing by, but it clashed with Annette’s wind spell to create a surging tornado of flame between the casters. As the spectacle dissipated, Annette’s follow up was faster, and Felix bit his cheek to keep the grin off his face. The spell wasn’t offensive in nature, just a slight modification of basic elemental manipulation even _he_ could understand. Winds battered the arena like a storm, and watching Lysithea deal with it made Felix grateful he wore his hair up. Whipping into her face, Lysithea’s long, white hair was obscuring her vision, and the dark, crackling spell of her counterattack missed Annette to scatter like ash in the dirt. Annette raised her hands to manifest her next strike and Felix knew the match was over.

A gale slammed across the training grounds and into Lysithea with punishing force. As she lay gasping on the ground, the hand bell rang again, and her fist pounded into the ground in frustration. However, when Lysithea peeled herself off the floor, she was smiling softly. “I knew missing that last tactics lesson was going to be a mistake,” she told Annette as she stood. Professor Manuela was already stepping forward, but the monastery's tournaments were never really sites of bloodshed and Lysithea waved her off. “I’ll try harder next time, and I'll have on of Hilda's hair ribbons with me.”

“I'm looking forward to it,” Annette replied with a sunny smile. If the tournament had been a hurricane, she was the serene eye of the storm.

Raucous cheers rose and Annette looked dumbfounded until she noticed there were no more opponents, leaving her the very awestruck winner. Felix called out to her again. This time when they met eyes, she came back to herself instantly, grinning widely as she tore across the makeshift arena to grasp his hands. He froze. “Felix! I did it! Did you see? I won!” Annette noticed he’d gone speechless and she looked confused before she noticed their interlocked hands, letting go and squeaking out a very alarmed, “Sorry!”

“It’s...it’s fine,” Felix stammered as the warmth from her palms faded from his.

“I know you’re not very touchy. I’ll be better!” she declared as if she had to right a very egregious wrong.

“I already said it was fine. I wouldn’t waste the breath otherwise.”

Contemplative, Annette responded, “I suppose that’s true.” A call came from the center of the arena, the referee beckoning her back to receive her prize. “Oh! Hey, when this all dies down, can you meet me at the gazebo?”

Training plans effectively trashed, Felix had nothing else to do. “I don’t see why not,” he hedged. He was a little reluctant, as he was hardly Annette’s usual or even preferred company, but he found her inoffensive. “Consider it a reward for doing well.”

Annette rolled her eyes. “Deigning to hang out with me as a reward? I feel the support in my heart.”

“You’re already being rewarded by the school, though. Do you really deserve my time?”

“I’ll see you later, Felix,” Annette called over her shoulder as she retreated, refusing to take his bait. Felix also turned to leave, mostly to head to the gazebo, but also to hide the mischievous smirk that bloomed on his face.

The playful feeling behind it died halfway through the walk. He liked teasing Annette, seeing her flustered and excitable. He realized with a sinking feeling in his chest that he’d been doing what Sylvain called ‘pulling a girl’s pigtails.’ Felix remembered calling Sylvain out for it, declaring him a bully, and stating that if he liked a girl he should be nice to her instead. Glenn, having overheard, laughed long enough to make Felix feel stupid, but had surprised him when he wholeheartedly agreed. In the end, it hadn’t stopped Sylvain from growing into the leech he was, but Felix had carried that victory with him for years. That he had fallen into this trapping was abhorrent.

Arriving at the gazebo, he fixated on an orange blossom in the hedges. Icy terror lurched in his heart. _Oh, no,_ he thought when all the implications caught up to him. _I like Annette._

A sweet voice in a memory bounced off the smooth insides of his skull, singing silly songs that cut through his dour mood like a radiant sunbeam through clouds. Felix remembered Annette framed in the light of the greenhouse, flushed and embarrassed, and the moment tasted like fire. Smoky residue lingered on his tongue even now, leaving him famished for more. The clamping jaws of this beartrap called a crush had ensnared him, locking him in a position that desired her attention in whatever way he could get. He'd pulled her figurative pigtails, as even as starved for her attention as he was, he still wouldn't be so childish as to pull her actual hair. Still, Felix was so fucked and he’d die with Sylvain’s laughter following him to the grave.

“Felix!” Jarred from his miserable downward spiral, he turned from the flower he had been staring at in quiet horror. The blossom matched Annette’s hair, he thought dumbly, watching her approach with a small wicker basket hooked on her arm, and it felt like the first time Lucy had thrown him. Heat built beneath his cheeks and Felix couldn’t dare to hope it wasn’t noticeable against the paleness of his skin.

“Annette,” he greeted, proud that his voice wasn’t as shaken as his world. 

Annette’s blinding smile weakened his knees under the onslaught of his feelings. In his dogged pursuit of strength, Felix never thought he would feel as wobbly as a newborn foal. “C’mon,” she instructed, placing a hand in the crook of his elbow, marching them towards the tea tables. Although Annette was leading him, Felix thought they looked like a proper noble couple and he was astonished by how much he liked the image of them walking arm-in-arm into a Fhirdiad ballroom. 

She sat him across from her at the table, placing her basket down as a centerpiece. The smell wafting from under the lid left Felix with a watering mouth. “Garlic?”

“Right on the money!” affirmed Annette, unlatching the lid and pulling aside a patchwork cloth to show off a few rolls of bread. They were oily with butter and flecks of spices dotted their smooth surfaces. “I wanted to thank you, so I brought you something I’d thought you’d like from the kitchen.”

“Thank me? I don’t recall doing anything worthy of that.”

“Right about the garlic bread, wrong about that. Boys really do think with their stomachs, huh?” Annette said, waving a finger at him like a scolding mother. “It’s thanks for cheering me on at the tourney today.”

Felix stared at her, digesting her sincerity. “Just for that?”

Threading her fingers together, Annette nodded. “Everyone was so busy this rest day, I thought I would be competing alone. Mercie was filling in for Professor Manuela while she was supervising us, and you and Sylvain were going out on your horses, and Dimitri and Dedue are still pulling weeds after Dimitri accidentally busted the wall smacking a spider—don’t tell him I told you that—and even Ashe got roped into a lancer seminar with Ingrid.”

“A lancer seminar,” repeated Felix gingerly. If Ingrid had been predisposed, had he sent Sylvain riding alone? If he felt guilty enough to stomach an extra two minutes of listening to him chronicle another one of his _dates_ , no one would have to know. 

“I was nervous,” Annette said tremulously. “If Hubert had signed up I never would have won, and Dorothea and Lysithea can be so scary! I was so, _so_ nervous and I thought I was all by myself.” Her eyes lit up like little suns. “And then you called out for me! You thought I could do it, and I felt so much better, and then I beat her. Lysithea! In a match of magic! Me!”

Felix huffed out a rush of breath, finally reaching into the basket to break the bread. “You underestimate yourself.”

“I think you do, too.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I think,” Annette started, leaning back in her chair. “ _Felix Hugo Fraldarius_ doesn’t give enough thought to his presence and what it means to his friends. I would have been overjoyed to receive anyone’s support, it’s true, but I don’t think I could have beat Lysithea if it wasn’t you who showed up today.”

Feeling needed always felt pleasing, but Annette’s insistence on Felix being necessary, while baffling, contented something in his blood. “Perhaps you are simply giving me too much credit.”

“I’m not,” she answered with brazen confidence.

“You’re going to have to tell me why you’re so certain.”

Annette fidgeted in her chair. “I will, but I want to ask you a question first.”

Smirking, Felix said, “I don’t know if you’re the greatest negotiator, Annette.”

“Shh! I wanted to ask why you were at the tournament in the first place.”

Felix realized that it was a question he did not want to answer. Annette’s contagious delight would crumble in the face of his honesty, that he hadn’t chosen to go for her, but he also could think of no greater insult than to tell her a lie. “Sylvain was annoying me,” he replied, looking into the airy texture of his untasted garlic roll. 

She giggled. It was cute, and thus illegal. “Color me surprised and aggrieved.”

“So I left. To be honest, I’m not much of a rider, anyway. Horses are…”

“Too big. Intimidating.”

“I got thrown a few times. It stays with you.”

“Felix! Do you have _post-traumatic horse disorder?”_

“What? No!”

Annette full on laughed. The sound settled Felix’s rising flood of emotions, lowering his shoulders until they were relaxed. When she caught her breath, she waved for him to proceed. “So what happened next?”

With no desire to see her crestfallen, Felix sighed. “What do you think happened? I walked away from my plans with Sylvain and suddenly had the rest of the free day by myself.”

“Oh!” she interjected. “You were going to train!”

“Yeah.”

“That makes sense!” Annette clapped her hands together like she’d solved a clever riddle. Amazingly, she didn’t seem to be bothered that Felix’s appearance hadn’t been personal. “Oh, gosh, and we were taking up so much space and it was so crowded. Sorry!”

“Huh?” Bewildered, he squinted at her as if he could strain to see something that wasn’t there. “Why are you apologizing? I should have checked the calendar, it was my fault that I couldn’t train. I’m glad I ended up there, however. I was happy to see you triumph.”

Annette fell silent, lips pressed into a thin line. There was a shine to them—a gloss? Fascinating. Then, she opened her mouth to ask, “Are you okay?”

“Do...I seem not okay?”

“I don’t know. That was just a very candid response.”

“Maybe I want to be candid with you.” No more pulling pigtails. “Your turn.” He tore off a small chunk of bread and flicked it at her. She pouted, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk’s. “How in the blazes did I help you beat Lysithea? I don’t remember training you. I score poorly in magics.”

“You reminded me,” Annette replied. “Ingrid drags you to the tactics lessons and seminars, I’ve seen you at them. You always bring up practical schemes to turn the tide of battle in our favor. If you hadn’t been there, I might have tried to brute force a victory against Lysithea, and she would have overpowered me for sure. But you _were_ there, and you’re so smart, and I thought, ‘What would Felix do?’”

“Burn to a crisp, probably,” Felix interrupted. He denied that he was blushing. “There’s a reason I only sign up for the sword tournaments.”

“I thought, ‘Felix would do something to tip the scales at all costs, because Felix hates to lose and has no patience for stupidity.”

“You pay that much attention to me?”

Speaking over him, Annette carried on, “So I changed the conditions to help me. You and I always tie our hair back because it gets cumbersome, right? Lysithea’s hair is always loose, and I remembered how annoying it is to eat hair on windy days, so I used my spells to my advantage, and—”

“And you beat her,” finished Felix. He smiled softly at her, a warm ball of pride forming in his chest. “You did very well, and your tactics were sound.”

Glowing, Annette beamed. “Hearing you say that makes me feel accomplished, Felix. Thank you.”

“I would have cancelled,” Felix suddenly burst, his defensive walls crumbling in the wake of her joy. He wished he’d never noticed his crush, it was messing with him in the worst ways. “If you asked. I would have been there from the start.”

Shocked, Annette sputtered, “B-but Sylvain!”

“Sylvain can ride circles around all of us and we know it. Without me he can gallop as far and fast as he wants, and we can always ride together another time. Watching you crush the other houses in a tournament isn’t something I can just reschedule and you deserve to be supported.”

“Oh, gosh,” Annette whispered as she hid her face in her hands. “That is very sweet, Felix.”

“It is the truth.”

“You’re so evil.”

“What did I do this time?”

Her shoulders jumped. When she spoke again, her voice was watery. “You’re making me cry, you jerk!”

Felix jerked up from his seat, banging his knees on the table and rattling the whole thing. “W-wait, don’t! Annette, I—”

“It’s okay!” she yelled, mopping at her eyes with her uniform’s sleeve. “Don’t worry! Sorry!” Annette revealed her face, pink and blotchy, but she was still, inconceivably, smiling. “I was just overwhelmed. I’m happy, I promise!”

Adrenaline leaving him at breakneck speed, Felix collapsed back into his chair. “You should weaponize that. Crying girls are among the most frightening beings in all the continent.”

“Eat your bread, jerk,” Annette instructed.

He acquiesced, and the two sat in silence for some time with their midday snack. Together, cheeks stuffed with fluffy bread, they listened to the quiet sounds of a Garreg Mach rest day and tittering birdsong. It was peaceful, and another fantasy of taking tea in the back gardens of his home in Fraldarius territory hovered behind his eyes. Felix coughed on his next bite, dispelling the daydream, and when he swallowed too much too quickly it scraped down his throat. 

“I heard your question earlier,” Annette broke the calmness, tugging nervously at her sleeve. “I pretended I didn’t, but I did. I do, okay? Pay a lot of attention to you, I mean.”

His collar was too snug against his skin. “I can't say I'm all that interesting.”

“I like watching you,” she admitted, eyes to the sky so Felix’s couldn’t meet them. “I listen when you talk during classes. I like the little smirk on your face when spar, whether or not you’re winning because you’re having a good time. You’re brilliant and strong and honest, and I feel like you’re someone I want to be. Though, maybe you could stand to be a little more polite, you grump.”

Mouth dry, Felix struggled for words. “I don’t think anyone should want to be me.”

“See, you do underestimate yourself!” Annette crowed, jabbing a finger at him from across the table. “I think you’re great.”

All his life, Felix couldn’t recall if anyone had ever said these foreign things to him. The shadow of an older brother had tinged all his interactions with the people he’d grown up with, always too soft or too weak, too mean or too small, in comparison to a memory. He wanted to accept Annette’s assertions, but he couldn’t quite manage it. “Ridiculous. My worth is in my blade. It’s all I am. You are hardworking and kind. People like you and actively want you around. I’m actually a little jealous. To add, you sing very well. My mind is made for warfare, but you are a paragon of peace. Do not underestimate yourself while overestimating me.”

They sat at a stalemate, equally stubborn and red-faced under each other’s praise. One of the cathedral’s bells gonged, low and echoing, and a distant voice called, “Annie!”

They turned their heads to see Mercedes trailing down the path, waving. “Agree to disagree?” Annette conceded, packing the remains of the bread back into the cloth and snapping the basket closed. Felix grunted, thinking about their conversation more than he allowed his face to display. She pushed the basket across the table and he clutched it in pinched fingers to keep it from falling to the ground. Pleasantly, she said, “The bread’s still a gift for you! Enjoy your leftovers, Felix, and thanks again. Even if you hadn’t meant to be, you still were there for me, and I’m still really happy about it. See you in class tomorrow, okay?”

Annette was humming a familiar tune as she left to meet Mercedes, and Felix watched her go quietly. They disappeared inside the mess hall, talking in hushed tones, and he began to hum the same Steaks and Cakes song when he could no longer hear them. 

He could look in a mirror every day and never see the idol Annette made of him. Until she figured out the muddy truth, that he was made of steel and nothing more, Felix supposed it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy the warmth of her smile. In some ways it was a blessing Annette would never meet Glenn. It had been nice to hear good things about himself without being compared to the ghost of a golden knight. Taking the basket, he retreated back to the student dorms.


End file.
